Magician's Hat
by No Promises
Summary: Harry is depressed over recent events, and may do something drastic. Set somewhere during the 5th book (though it contains only mild spoilers). PG13 for major angst.
1. Magician's Hat Pt 1

Title: Magician's Hat

Author: Pink Spyder

Premise: One shot. Takes place somewhere within the 5th book. Harry's depressed about events, and I don't blame him. Joan must've been on downers when she wrote this book. :O I wrote this for Angel, who hates it when I write stuff like this :) Enjoy!

Warnings: A few spoilers, though not enough to really tell you anything. Oh, and angst…dripping with beautiful, glorious angst ^_^;

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, but I would've thought if it, if Ms. Rowling hadn't beaten me to it!! *shakes fist, menacingly*  
  
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Harry sat on the window ceil of the empty Griffindor common room. Outside the full moon illuminated the Hogwart's grounds, reaching its every crevice. Hugging his legs unto himself, he sighed softly, rubbing his chilled arm. Thinking back to Double Potions, he clutched his arm bitterly. It just wasn't fair. With everything he'd been through, why did he deserve this? And that was only the top of it all. There was also the situation with Voldemort returning, the Ministry of Magic not believing him, The Daily Prophet turning his reputation to mud, his friends both being made Prefects, and so much more, it just seemed unfair that a 15 year old would have to go through all this. He needed an escape...somehow. 'Just a moment longer,' he thought to himself.  
  
"Harry?" whispered Ron, peeking into the room, just opening the Fat Lady painting. Never looking away from the moon, Harry called to Ron, "Right here." "Oh," replied Ron, walking toward Harry, "We didn't see you at dinner. Hermione thought it'd be best to check on you. You alright, mate?"  
  
Harry darkened. What did Ron expect him to answer? 'Oh, sure, just swell Ron. I wasn't feeling particularly hungry, so I thought sitting alone in the dark was the best thing for me.' He smiled bitterly. "Fine, Ron."  
  
"Ah," Ron surveyed the room a few moments, looking unsure of what to say, "So, what are you doing?"  
  
"Just thinking."  
  
"'Bout anything in particular?"  
  
"Actually, I was just thinking about magicians."  
  
Harry glanced back at Ron, who blinked confusedly, and chuckled to himself, "Muggles have people who do magic too, you know."  
  
Ron's eyes widened, "But if they have magic..."  
  
"Oh, not real magic," interrupted Harry, causing Ron's look of confusion to grow even wilder, "They're like illusionists. They're so quick with their hands, they can fool other Muggles into thinking that they did real magic." Harry stood, looking back at the night sky, "When Dudley turned seven, he had an outdoor birthday party, with a clown, and balloons, and the works. They even hired a magician on Dudley's request, though I reckon Aunt Petunia was none too pleased 'bout it. Of course, I wasn't allowed to watch. The Dursleys locked me in the house, and had me scrub each crevice between the kitchen tiles. Still, I'd never seen a magician before, and all I wanted to do was watch one trick. When Aunt Petunia got distracted by the clown who had thrown a mess of pies into the flower garden, I snuck around the side of the house, and hid under the bushes. I watched the magician do different tricks, seeing the slight of hand behind each, but one stuck out to me the most. He had a snow-white rabbit, which he had pulled out of his hat earlier. He placed the rabbit into a black box, covering the lid. Then, he slowly began sticking long sticks in at each angle. I grimaced every time he did this, inwardly hoping that rabbit hadn't been hurt. Then, he pulled all the sticks out, and opened the box. The rabbit was gone, without a trace. He made it disappear." Harry stopped for a moment, as if he was inwardly mulling over something. He seemed to finally come to a decision, and continued the story, "I sat there, amazed, yet wondering, 'where had the rabbit gone?' I didn't get to see anymore tricks, because Aunt Petunia started back to the house, intent on calling in some kind of animal control on the clown. Later that night, though, I still couldn't get it out of my mind. I replayed the scene over and over in my mind, wondering where he had tricked me. I eventually figured out the trick, but still, it has always been my favorite magician's trick."  
  
"Harry," started Ron, but Harry shook his head. "What do you think, Ron? I mean, it was a lame trick, but it still it fascinates me," said Harry, quietly, "I'm beginning to think, maybe the rabbit had the right idea. I mean, he was faced with certain doom. Why not just make himself disappear?" He reached his hand up to the glass, feeling the cold smoothness beneath his skin, "That's what I want to do. Just make myself disappear."  
  
Ron looked alarmed. "Harry," he started again, "you mean, like, disapparate?" Harry laughed once again, and, for the first time since he entered the room, turned to face Ron completely, his brilliant green eyes boring into Ron. Ron felt himself shiver, as he stared back at Harry, who looked almost ethereal, bathed in the pale moonlight. "Harry?" he asked.  
  
Harry broke the gaze, and returned to his fascination with the window. Unhooking the handle which kept the window closed, he pushed it forward, a cold wind invading the room. Ron stepped forward, but Harry's voice halted him. "I guess it would be like disapparating. But unlike disapparating, I wouldn't come back. I'd just be gone forever," Harry said, in an almost wistful tone.  
  
"Please, Harry," said Ron, urgency apparent in his voice, "Come back from the window, and tell me what's wrong." His voice broke, in its shakiness, "Don't do anything stupid, pal."  
  
Ron's hope rose a second, as Harry turned around to face him. His heart stopped as Harry spoke. "And what's stupider, Ron?" asked Harry, his voice rising only slightly, "Enduring a pain that will probably follow me the rest of my life, or discovering absolute freedom, from everything that hurts me here?"  
  
"No pain lasts forever!" exclaimed Ron, his panic at an all time high. He only wished he had thought to bring Hermione, or anyone else with him to find Harry. He knew these last few months were taking their toll on Harry, but he never expected to find his best friend in this state. "We can all work together to make things better. You, me, and Hermione," he added, hopefully.  
  
Harry chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm beyond hoping, Ron. Beyond caring. I'm just so tired," he whispered, looking down at the floor, "I want to sleep."  
  
"Harry..." Ron choked.  
  
"I think that's what I need to do right now-just sleep a bit," said Harry, taking a step backwards, "See you when we both wake up, Ron." With that, he let himself fall backwards onto the unlocked window.  
  
"Harry!!" Ron screamed, diving toward the window. He missed Harry's leg by a moment, has he found himself half hanging from the window. Looking down at his friend's descending body, he screamed again, "HARRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
  
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Oh my god!!! *screams* What will happen? Is Harry doomed? Why the hell didn't Ron stop him in the first place? Obviously, the boy's off balanced...don't let him hang out by a damn window ceil!! Hahaha!! I AM evil! *completely insanely evillicious laugh* Hope you liked it, Ang. :D C&C, R&R welcomed; if you want to tell me what a loser I am, then you've been beaten to it by about a billion people! :D 


	2. Magician's Hat Pt 2

Hmm, perhaps we need to work on what "one shot" means. Oh well, I loved all your comments anyway! In fact, because of them, here's another part to "Magician's Hat". I hadn't originally intended to write this, but, heck, people asked, and I need a little more time to mull before doing more "Aevum" (which everyone should read, by the way ;). I had to reread the story to get a "feel" for it again, and it made me realize that there are a ton of mistakes I should tackle, particularly in the opening paragraph. Aa…another time, perhaps. This is another short installment, but that's how I write 'em…short and sweet. 

A quick fact to ponder for everyone: I've read that JK Rowling stated that Harry's father, James Potter, played a Chaser position on the Griffindor Quidditch team (). However, in OotP, we see him playing with a snitch. *shrugs* Just thinking.

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Ron couldn't think. He saw his friend's body rushing to the ground, eyes closed in bliss. Tears ran down Ron's cheek, as he thrust his arm into his robes, scrambling for his wand. _No, Harry! _his mind cried, _I can't let you do this. I won't let you give up._

Waving his wand through the air, Ron screamed out the first spell he could think of. "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" he rasped, watching Harry's descending body hopefully. His mind panicked as nothing happened, and he screamed it again, "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!!"

Harry's body jerked to a stop, just a few feet from the ground. Harry let out a strangled gasp, at the sudden force of his stop. At that moment, Ron was flooded with relief. He'd done it. He stopped his best friend from making a huge mistake. He hoped that maybe Harry had realized this as well, but as he looked down at Harry's face, his heart sank, and a cold surge radiated throughout his body.

Harry was crying. His eyes were shut so hard it seemed almost painful, as tears streaked down his cheeks. His head was turned sideways, as if he didn't want Ron to see him. Not knowing what else to do, Ron used his wand to slowly direct Harry back to the window of the tower. As soon as he was safely inside the window, Ron grabbed Harry's arms in a tight grip, not giving him the chance to touch his wand or make another run at the window.

Harry resisted for a moment, but let his struggle die seeing that Ron wasn't going to let up. Instead, he settled for politely reasoning with his friend.

"Let me go," Harry growled.

"Not a chance in hell," Ron replied.

Harry winced, as Ron's grip tightened. He felt as though the pit of his stomach had dropped, as he very suddenly grew aware that Ron was going to interrogate him. Dreading facing Ron, or anyone else, after what he'd just tried to do, Harry began thrashing out of the grip, violently. Panicking, he kicked Ron hard in the shin, and jerked back as hard as he could. Ron was taken aback for a moment, but continued to hold on as Harry assaulted him.

"You can't do this!" Harry snarled, trying to pry Ron's fingers off.

Suddenly angry, Ron slammed Harry against the stone wall of the common room. "Will you stop acting like a mad man, and just talk to me for a moment!?" he screamed, directly staring into Harry's face.

Harry's eyes widened in shock, and he stood frozen at Ron's outburst. He seemed to have forgotten completely about what he was just doing. 

Feeling a sharp headache coming on, Ron glanced around the common room, before looking back at Harry. "Now, if I let you go, will you promise to act nice and sane, and sit down to talk?" he asked, his eyes searching Harry.

Harry, still in shock, nodded slowly, and slumped back against the wall, as Ron released him. He rubbed his arms, which were numb from Ron's surprisingly strong grip, and watched as he around, to sit in an armchair by the fireplace. Following suit, Harry also sat down in the chair opposite Ron, though he wished he hadn't, as a direct confrontation was the last thing he wanted.

Ron rubbed his temple, looking much older than his fifteen years. Something must've snapped in him when he saw Harry fall, as he was acting nothing like his usual self.

Harry fidgeted at the silence, staring down at his hands. He didn't feel at all like talking, but the whole situation felt wrong. He felt very depressed, as he knew this was never anything he thought he'd go through with Ron. True, he had been through a lot over these last few months, but he had been very selfish. He'd never wanted to do anything to hurt his friends like this. Never.

Harry jumped at a sudden cough from the other chair. Looking up, he was surprised to see Ron staring at him, as his inwardly contemplating something. Frowning slightly, Ron spoke, "Well?"

Sighing, Harry opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly had a very hard time thinking of what to say in a situation like this. It was not exactly something he'd been planning for. Rethinking his strategy, Harry opened his mouth again. "I belong in St. Mungo's," was all he could say.

To his surprise, Ron began to chuckle. "I don't think you've hit that point, yet, Harry," he said, with a grim sort of smirk on his face, "Though you might want to talk to someone."

"Like who? Dumbledore?" Harry snorted, "I'll have a time trying. He hasn't so much as looked at me since I got here. Thanks, but I think I know when I'm not wanted around."

Ron's smirk faded. "I know you've been mad at him all semester, but, still," Ron began, "Dumbledore'll listen. Maybe if he knows how much trouble you've been having, he can do something about it." He grinned wickedly, "Heck, maybe he'll even fire Snape for you."

Harry felt too weak to laugh. Though the idea of getting Snape fired was tempting, he still didn't want to talk to Dumbledore. Besides that, he doubted Dumbledore fire Snape, even if he jumped on the teacher's table during a feast, and screamed that he was a Death Eater. Harry grunted, bitterly.

Ron seemed to have expected this, and threw his next suggestion right out at Harry. "You know, Sirius is always around. He even said he'd want to hear if you having any problems at school."

"Please," Harry said, suddenly serious, "Don't tell Sirius about this. He's the last person I want to know."

Ron raised an eyebrow, and replied quietly, "Me and Hermione are always here." He stared at Harry's face, a sincere look on his own, "That's what we're here for…you to fall on, when you need help."

Harry said nothing to this. He simply sat, staring at the empty fireplace, waiting for something. Anything.

Ron stood up, with intention to escort Harry to bed. He was suddenly caught by a pleading expression on Harry's face, one that seemed to beg him not to go. Ron sat down again, watching as Harry focused once again on the empty fireplace. They sat that way for the rest of the night, dozing now and then, but never leaving each other's company. Together, they would face the morning, and whatever came with it.


End file.
